There are times when I wish that we were a little handier.
Sara: Himself, we need to get the washer/dryer hooked up no later than Monday night.
Himself: I work late all week.
Sara: Um, not a good excuse.
Himself: What's the rush?
Sara: Baby Girl is on her last clean pair of pajamas. She has also ensured that nothing I have worn in the last week can be worn again, by marking her territory with snot. And someday I'm going to run out of clean underwear. (Not to mention the fact that the move has meant I have gone through rags and dishcloths like 5-year-olds go through toilet paper).
Himself: Oh.
Is it just Himself or do men not think about the ramifications of not having a washing machine, especially when one's house is inhabited by an infant and a pre-teen boy? Seriously.
To Himself's credit - he got out of setting up the washer/dryer last year, but he heard about all the horror stories, so he's a little worried. Then again, last year the washer/dryer was set up by a blind guy and a pregnant woman. The washer is 250 pounds and involves small parts. You have to give us some credit.
Wish us luck.
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